Keepers of Eden by Nicholas Clowes

Author:Nicholas Clowes [Clowes, Nicholas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

Titus wiped the sweat from his brow. He grabbed at the edge of the seat, hoping the padding would absorb the moisture.

“So I’m doin’ this fuse job on me own t’day?”

“It’s not a big job,” replied Berenika, “Get a move on and you’ll be free to fuck around all afternoon.”

She turned and headed towards the door. Titus’s eyes darted as his plan crumbled before him. Cooking himself on a high voltage circuit would never do if there was nobody to drag him back to the almatic.

“Berenika!” he shouted. “Any chance I could help Luke first? He could give me a hand with the fuses after. He’s using a fuckin’ flamethrower - would be safer for us to pair up, no?”

Berenika answered without turning.

“Whatever. So long as it all gets done.”

Luke stared at Titus, confused.

“I’m cool man. I’m a pro, a pyro-master. I’m the dragon master.”

“Fuck off are ye. Could’nae toast a fuckin’ teacake.”

The heated suits restricted Titus’s arm movement, making it impossible to lift the fuel tank onto his back. Luke helped; he bore the heavy load until Titus clicked the buckles closed around his chest. Titus returned the favour. They stood in silence while the pressure equalized with the freezing outside atmosphere. A red light flashed on the scuffed walls. The door opened revealing the meter-thick slab of ice that had built up over the previous forty-eight hours. Titus lifted the flamethrower; he clicked the ignition. A jet of flaming butane licked the tip of the barrel in anticipation of the stream of fuel.

“Dude!” shouted Luke. “Not in here. We gotta get through to the outside.”

“And how dae ye figure we’ll manage that?”

Luke bent and lifted a long iron pick from the floor.

“With this. Get picking.”

“You first pal.”

“You’re a lazy bastard, you know.”

Titus snuffed the nozzle then slumped against the wall. He watched Luke attack the ice for twenty minutes until a faint blue glow appeared within the hole.

“Take a break will ye?” said Titus.

He grabbed the hefty iron rod then raised it above his head like Ahab about to strike the white whale.

“Lemme show ye how to dae it.”

Shards of ice showered the airlock until Titus had made a big enough hole to squeeze through. They pushed their fuel tanks and flamethrowers first before crawling on their bellies to the outside and the raging wind. Aided by the great pressure from the tank on Titus’s back, the blue pilot light burned bright against the wind.

“Why couldn’t we have landed in one of those nice, warm, thermal pools?” said Luke.

Titus aimed his flamethrower above his head, into the swirling maelstrom. In the dim grey light, the burst of oily flames lit the shadowy wave of ice that had crashed along the flank of Longshadow’s black hull then flash froze.

“That looked pretty cool,” said Luke.

“You ready, motherfucker.”

They kept their distance while they spent the next forty minutes pumping burning fuel onto the ice until their fuel, energy, and motivation were spent. The airlock was clear enough.

Aching, they re-entered Longshadow. Luke crashed to the common room sofa as the coffee machine gargled on the kitchen counter.

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